Chapter 74: Inferno

"Charge!"

With renewed battle cries, the Dornishmen launched another attack on the last line of defense at Eagle's Point.

This time, however, the challenge was far greater than the previous assaults.

The smooth outer walls left no footholds, forcing the attackers to rely on grappling hooks, ladders, and other siege tools to scale the walls.

The Reachmen resistance was also far fiercer than before; countless sharp spears rained down like a storm, splattering the attackers with crimson blood as they struck.

Atop the walls, Reach soldiers wielded swords and axes, cutting down ladders and ropes while hurling rocks and logs to thwart the Dornishmen's ascent.

And even now, the defenders didn't forget to throw barrels filled with liquor onto the attackers below, as though this bizarre tactic was a vital part of their defense.

Amber-colored liquor quickly soaked the walls and ground below, mingling with the blood to create a horrific, visceral scene.

Ulrick watched the spectacle impassively, unfazed.

This level of combat intensity finally met his expectations. The Reachmen previous behavior had been so bizarre that it made him suspicious, but now, seeing his Dornish soldiers suffer heavy casualties, he was instead reassured.

Such losses were to be expected in siege warfare; patience and a cold heart willing to accept casualties were essential.

The only thing that still troubled him was the seemingly pointless wooden barrels the enemy kept throwing.

He simply couldn't grasp why the defenders kept this up.

Then again, the Reachmen had been acting strangely throughout this entire campaign. Ulrick suspected that Caesar, the lord of Eagle's Point, was using these tricks to keep him off-balance, hoping he would second-guess his moves and hesitate to attack in full force.

If that was Caesar's plan, he was sorely mistaken.

Ulrick had set his mind firmly on this victory. Not only must he win, but he had to win decisively to earn Prince Doran's favor and prove that he was worthy of inheriting Starfall.

Seeing the first wave slow down, Ulrick sent in a fresh contingent of soldiers, denying the defenders any chance to rest.

The battle cries flared up again as the Dornish soldiers repeatedly breached the wall, only to be pushed back by the determined defenders.

The piles of bodies around the walls grew higher and higher, and the blood-soaked earth turned soft and muddy, reeking of iron and mingling with the pungent scent of alcohol.

As the sun dipped toward the horizon, its last rays painted Eagle's Point in colors as rich as an oil painting.

Ulrick, listening to reports of mounting casualties with a stony face, realized that they likely wouldn't be able to breach the castle today.

Caesar's soldiers certainly had their share of skill.

But that skill can only go so far.

There were several points today when the Dornish had nearly breached the defenses.

He was convinced that if they repeated this assault tomorrow, the defenders would inevitably collapse.

Ulrick looked at the setting sun and ordered his soldiers to pull back.

But just as the horns sounded, a figure suddenly appeared atop the castle walls.

The man held high a massive, flaming weapon—not a torch.

It was a two-handed war hammer, its massive head ablaze with roaring flames.

Ulrick immediately recognized the figure as none other than the lord of Eagle's Point—Samwell Caesar!

And then he and the Dornish soldiers around him witnessed a sight they would never forget.

The Reach knight swung his blazing war hammer in a fiery arc, bringing it down on a Dornishman who had reached the wall.

Boom!

With a thunderous crack, the Dornish soldier was shattered as if he were a melon, bursting apart instantly.

Blood, bone, and flesh fragments were instantly ignited, scattering like fireworks in a morbidly beautiful display.

The entire battlefield seemed to freeze.

Every eye was fixed on the towering figure wielding the flaming war hammer, standing proudly atop the wall.

And then, as the fiery sparks scattered down, they landed on the liquor-soaked walls and on the Dornish soldiers' drenched armor—

Boom!

Flames flared up, spreading in an instant like blossoming flowers.

Before the Dornishmen could comprehend what was happening, a barrage of flaming torches rained down from the castle walls, setting fire to the battlefield below.

"What's going on?"

Ulrick, still stunned from witnessing the knight's gruesome display of power, was even more bewildered as he watched the flames spread rapidly across the field.

The knights beside him were equally dumbfounded, unable to provide any answers.

"Quickly! Pull them back! Sound the retreat!" Ulrick grabbed a nearby messenger and shouted in his ear.

"Y-yes, my lord!"

But it was already too late to retreat.

The fire was spreading with terrifying speed.

In moments, the outer walls were completely engulfed, and the Dornishmen climbing them were set ablaze, tumbling down screaming in agony.

Below, the ground had transformed into a sea of fire. The liquor-soaked earth ignited instantly, consuming every Dornish soldier it touched.

Horrific screams of pain echoed across the battlefield. No matter how they rolled or flailed, the flames couldn't be put out. Even stripping off their burning armor couldn't save them from the inferno.

The fire continued to spread rapidly.

The remaining Dornish soldiers, horrified by the sight, turned and ran without waiting for orders.

But people couldn't outrun the fire.

During the earlier battle, the ground within the three lines of defense had been thoroughly soaked in the specially treated liquor, and now it all blazed to life.

Desperate screams filled the air, and the heavy smell of alcohol was soon overpowered by the sickening scent of charred flesh.

"My lord, we have to go!"

Ulrick stood there, paralyzed, as he stared at the hellish scene before him. It wasn't until his attendants shouted in his ear and dragged him away that he finally stirred.

High above on the castle walls, Samwell stood, his flaming hammer resting at his side, his expression inscrutable.

Behind him, his soldiers were wild with excitement. Their shouts, roars, and cheers blended into a single chant—

"Caesar!"

"Caesar!"

"Caesar!"

…

Nathalie joined the jubilant crowd, waving her small fists in the air and cheering with glee, "Mother, we did it! We won! Caesar is incredible!"

But Nara remained still, her eyes fixed on Samwell's silhouette as if entranced.

Beyond him, the fiery battlefield stretched out in a hellish panorama, and the hammer in his hand blazed against the sky. Dark smoke spiraled around him, mingling with the rhythmic crash of waves and the fading light of sunset, forming a haunting image.

"Blood in the stars, darkness on the horizon…"

Nara's voice was barely a whisper as she recited an ancient prophecy passed down by the Ashara line.

"Azor Ahai will rise again from the land of salt and smoke...

"He will wake dragons from stone, wield a blade of flame…

"Leading all to victory over the darkness, and heralding an endless summer…"

(End of Chapter)